Page 11 of Fated Guardian

I glance at Nolan. “Thank you. There isn’t a response.”

“Is everything okay?”

I look at him. “Why?”

“You went white as a sheet when you read whatever’s in there. Also, that plant tried to touch you,” he says, pointing to the crabapple tree that’s growing off to my right.

I squint at it, telling it that I’m fine, and the tree leans back to its original position.

“That’s cool,” Nolan says.

“What is?”

“The plants. Do they always try to comfort you when you’re upset?”

I nod, looking at the papers in my hands. “They do. They don’t really experience emotion in the same way we do, so they don’t quite know what to do, but they can read my mind, and I’m often seeking comfort when I’m afraid.”

“Are you?”

I look up. “Am I what?”

“Afraid. Of what’s in there.” Nolan points to the papers.

“Yes,” I whisper. I’m too tired to think of a partial truth, so I just go with what’s there.

“Thorne assigned me to protect you,” Nolan blurts.

I look up at him, a question clear in my eyes.

He looks uncomfortable. “He told me that you might need some extra support. So. I’d like to help.”

“I think I will be okay, but…”

“Please, Coral. Let me keep you safe.”

I look at the paper, then look up at him. Nolan seems nice. He seems like a shifter with a good head on his shoulders, and he’s handsome to look at. He’s tall and strong, and I have no doubt that he can handle himself in a battle.

I’m so tired of being scared. I’m so tired of hiding. Of keeping myself, and everything I know, a secret. Mostly, I’m so tired of being alone that I think I could scream.

Looking down at Thorne’s question, I make my decision. I glance back up at Nolan.

“How much do you know about wards?”

Chapter 4

Nolan

It turns out, I not only know nothing about wards, but I had absolutely no clue what Coral meant by that.

The next day, she asks me to meet her at the cottage. After that, she and I walk to the edge of Oakwood pack land, at the northernmost corner of our domain. It’s probably a three-hour hike, but it’s the only part of our pack territory that isn’t drivable, as it has a pretty steep mountain that runs along the north end. I could shift, which would be a much more effective way to travel, but that seems… rude.

The whole walk, I’m just… watching Coral. The way she moves is so different than a shifter. She kind of drifts over the forest floor, her bare feet padding softly against it. I’m constantly worried that she’s going to step on something that’s going to punch a hole in her delicate, fine-boned feet, but she never does. Hence why it seems like she’s drifting.

She doesn’t even really leave footprints. I checked. Instead, the plants and leaves underneath her feet kind of sweep aside any indent that she makes, and if I wasn’t right here looking at her, I’d literally never be able to track her. It’s fascinating.

The way plants respond to her is also fascinating. Everywhere we go, trees stretch their leaves out. Flowers turn to her. Vines writhe, looking for an excuse to touch her.

I never thought of plants as being alive like this. I know that’s stupid, especially because I’m committed to eco-friendly buildings and I make an effort to make sure that’s in all of my construction, but this… is incredible.

---